


Pull

by shinesurge



Category: Kidd Commander (Webcomic)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Queer Relationship, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:28:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24252838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinesurge/pseuds/shinesurge
Summary: Phineas and Agatha are monsters.
Relationships: Agatha Goddard/Phineas Kidd
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1
Collections: Whoops All Smut





	Pull

**Author's Note:**

> Something hideously self-indulgent because I sure like my girls I tell you what.
> 
> This is definitely smut of a sort but there's no actual sex; however, if violence or blood or the robot getting damaged upsets you it's probably best to skip this one. Phineas also says Fuck; watch out.

They're just kissing, they're still wearing what's left of their ruined clothes and they're covered in dirt and grime and it's all terribly chaste but Phineas feels like she's going to explode. She's bleeding from a cut on her lip and her nose is dripping red, there's blood that keeps smearing behind her hand when she drags it across Agatha's skin but she can't feel enough through the adrenaline to figure out where it's coming from. It makes an obscene contrast to Agatha's paleness and Phineas would be ashamed at how her mouth waters if she could spare the sense. She's glowing gold through her skin, she's slamming Agatha's shoulders into the dirt and kissing her hard enough to bruise her own mouth.

Phineas likes that, she thinks as she sucks on her split lip. Marks are uncomplicated; her blood glistening darkly under Agatha's chin, in the crevices of her chest where Phineas had ripped the buttons off her shirt. Her Agatha has been marked by too much, too many unworthy things. Her face by a family that abandoned her, that would have undoubtedly _ruined_ this perfect lovely shape Agatha grew into; the cruel etching on her arm left by a horrible thing Phineas wishes she could kill again. Worst is that she can feel, underneath everything else, a need to be subservient, an inexorable pull to be a right hand, a kept watchdog looming behind the shoulder of a giant. Whether this is from Monterey's bone-deep influence or some strange innate property of Agatha's starstone heart, Phineas isn't sure. She can't take it, the thought of her Agatha so vulnerable to indignity by things unfit to grovel at her _feet,_ the unfairness of what's been done to _hers_ howls in her as the possessiveness of a spoiled greedy god. Monsters had marked her Agatha but _Phineas_ is a better beast than all of them; if Agatha must be kept it will be by a monster that loves her.

Phineas presses her face into the hollow of Agatha's neck, brushes the hair aside with her nose to get as much skin to skin contact as she can muster up, wants to climb inside her and make a home.

"can i," she growls in Agatha's ear, digging her fingernails into Agatha's neck. "can i, can i," 

Agatha is coming through to Phineas mostly in radio waves, her aura bewildered but amenable, frustratingly muted by the metal and meat keeping them apart. With her mouth Agatha manages an affirmative response, and it's hardly finished when Phineas tears the skin from her neck, sinks her teeth in the soft synthetic flesh of her collar and rips that away too, pries her fingers under the plates covering her shoulders until they pop and scatter in the dirt with a soft thud. Agatha's a divine network of wires and skeletal silver, her starlight washing over Phineas in a dazzling cloud of cyan circuitry. Phineas devours her light greedily, lets Mana roar in her chest as she latches onto the shadow behind Agatha's heart, complementary forces tangling up. Phineas pulls and Vane comes away in Mana's grip until both are writhing like snakes in Phineas' ribcage. Agatha shudders, her eyes flutter closed as the weight in her lessens. It's a loss, but the lost thing itself being a manifestation of absence only makes Agatha feel like there's more now than she started with, more feeling. She fists a hand in Phineas' shirt because she doesn't know what else to do. A hysterical stab of affection runs Phineas through and she can't bear to not be kissing Agatha anymore, so she does that, gripping the sides of Agatha's face and breaking her own skin again. She can't help a broken little moan, and Agatha's grip changes to splay her fingers over Phineas' heart.

It had been difficult, the first few times, for Mana and Vane to deal with each other. Both are raw with rage, and ravenous, but where one is desperate to _inflict_ her will the other only wants to be _seen,_ felt and acknowledged. They're each fiercely territorial and it had taken some doing to calm Vane enough to coexist in Phineas' body without real harm. Fair enough; the first time, after all, had been a hostage situation. But Phineas had come around to the fact that Agatha and her shadow are a package deal, even if she dislikes sharing Agatha with anything else, and something so counterpoint to what Phineas is. 

The saving grace is, of course, that Vane is the only other being Phineas knows who worships Agatha as much as she deserves. Mana and Vane still make themselves known individually, neither wanting to submit to the other while Phineas tries to balance between them, but all three love Agatha like a blazing sunrise, like the howl of a collapsing star. Once that had been established, getting along well enough to show her became possible. Complex, messy, terribly necessary.

The combination of three perspectives, three loves, does strange things to Phineas.

Agatha watches Phineas duck her head as Vane drains into her, like she's swallowing bitter medicine, and after a moment those soft black tendrils begin to blossom across her skin. Phineas meets her eyes and her smile is sharp and full of teeth. The black undulates slowly like a water reflection, pooling and rippling around wounds, seeking out sensation and stealing it away. Agatha wants to touch, cradles Phineas' cheek in her degloved palm. Phineas leans into the caress enthusiastically, presses one hand over the other hard enough to sting where metal joints dig into her cheek, turns her head to kiss Agatha's metal. Where their skin meets the gold and the black swirl to find Agatha's touch like eels rushing for a meal.

Phineas laughs deliriously and it sinks deep into Agatha's chest, flooding her with sunlight enough to make her gasp for air she doesn't need, arch her shoulders into the ground. Phineas' feelings come with it and she surges with everything her commander feels; possessiveness, a need to be possessed, the _desperate_ need to break something and consume the pieces. Agatha can handle at least one of those, for sure. She smashes her fist to Phineas' temple hard enough to send her sprawling off balance and the heat it sends through Phineas spikes through Agatha, too.

Phineas groans and shakes her head to scatter the stars in her eyes, scrambles to her hands and knees to stare up at Agatha through her dirty hair. Agatha's on her feet now and towers above Phineas like an iron angel.

Vane _screams_ , my Agatha, my everything, buzzes under Phineas' skin to bask in reflected radiance. Phineas licks her lips, her ears still ringing.

"That hurt," she says. Her voice is saturated in light and the proud angle of Agatha's chin bows down towards Phineas just enough for her to catch it. 

"It was supposed to." Agatha responds, because it's better for both of them when she pretends she's unimpressed. Then she grabs Phineas by the hair and drags her up, high enough to thrust her knee into her chin. Phineas groans thickly and collapses again. She takes a sharp breath; Vane wallows in the pain, A Blessing from their goddess, and Phineas shuts her eyes as heat gathers between her hips

god, god, if only agatha would

Agatha's foot comes down painfully on Phineas' collar, knocking her head back into the ground. Phineas completely fails to muffle a strangled moan and only stops herself from shoving a hand down her shorts through sheer force of will. 

"oh, pretty thing," Phineas' strained voice is almost a perfect fifth with Mana's and she feels it shiver down Agatha's legs. Phineas nearly shatters.

She draws up a shock of energy and launches herself to her feet, startling Agatha off balance. Phineas falls easily into a stance that lets her step through and slam her fist squarely into Agatha's chest. 

Physically Agatha hardly moves, but there's that light again, sparking and jumping over exposed wiring. Her processors scramble to deal with the assault and she falters long enough for Phineas to twine her fist in a mass of wire in her neck. She holds Agatha there, staring her down; Phineas' eyes are hard to meet with the deity lurking so close behind them. Agatha feels her whine pass through Phineas' fist, sees visions of vast space and heat and momentum and it's almost painful to stop her knees from kneeling,

"Fuck, come on you're better than that," Phineas sneers. Mana's overtones ring in Agatha's ears and she finally lowers her gaze, feels herself begin to slacken in Phineas' grip. Gravity increases to pull her to her knees and she makes a soft sound almost like a prayer. It wrenches a choked noise from Phineas that she's heard before in much gentler circumstances. Before she can sink too far Phineas snarls suddenly and bends her, bringing their faces together. 

" _don't you take your eyes off me_ " Her command surges fresh light through Agatha and she shakes. Phineas schools herself enough to take the edge off. "You'll kneel, but you do it when I tell you to." Agatha's eyes slip closed and she nods faintly. Phineas keeps her close, leans in to kiss her forehead. Gentle reverence washes thick over Agatha and she feels a lump in her throat. Phineas' grip finally loosens, she shudders a breath. 

"Come on," she says. The words are charged with heat and command and Agatha moves.

Phineas' back hitting the ground beats the air from her lungs. Agatha plants her knees on either side of her belly, anticipates it when she tries to sit up and slams her hand to Phineas' sternum and presses her hard into the dirt. Agatha holds her there while the dust settles. She feels Phineas' rapid breaths struggle under her hand, watches the pulse flutter in her neck. Still thrumming with their connection, trying to ride out her impulses as long as she can, Agatha moves her free hand to trace over Phineas' parted lips. Her pupils somehow blow even wider and she makes a hard line with her mouth. Agatha presses harder with two fingertips.

"Open." she says firmly. Phineas whines but Agatha pries her way in, twisting her fingers past her teeth. Phineas drags her tongue over them, momentarily forgetting herself. Agatha does too, watches Phineas' eyes slip shut and her face soften as she closes her lips around the digits. 

It's brief. Phineas' eyes fly open, they flash and she bites through the skin of Agatha's fingers. Agatha drags her hand back, losing her remaining glove in the process, and grips Phineas' chin roughly. Phineas giggles like a brick through a church window, spitting out Agatha's glove gracelessly.

"That's not nice." Agatha says coolly. Phineas is still laughing, singing light along Agatha's steel, but Agatha can tell what she wants and the sound cuts out as Agatha slowly presses her hand over Phineas' throat. She only needs one for the job; she's pressing so tightly she can see the skin warping in between her joints.

Mana and Vane twist tight inside her, she can feel the light and shadow swirl across her skin more erratically as her head swims. Phineas fights to keep her eyes from rolling, wants to keep Agatha trapped under her gaze, but in the edge of her vision she sees Monterey's gash in the arm strangling her. In Agatha's arm, a mark from someone _else._

Phineas writhes under Agatha in a way that makes Agatha let up, enough for Phineas to free her hands and grip Agatha's forearm. The hand around her throat loosens as she pries her thumbs into the grooves of Agatha's arm, tearing through the synthetic skin. 

" _mine,_ " she growls in three voices, rough and low and mostly unintelligible. Agatha feels the command brush up against something very old in her. 

"y-yours," she whispers, unsure why she says it. It's true, of course, but the word had felt like the ring following a struck bell, inevitable, pulled. Phineas digs her fingers in, popping the plate off of Agatha's arm and taking the blasphemous mark with it. She opens her eyes and looks up to see Agatha staring at her curiously. The halo of her aura is spun out bright around her head, melting into gold at the edges where Phineas' flares out to meet it. Phineas reaches and holds her face steady between her fingertips.

"My Agatha," she breathes, the harmonics of both their entities thick in her voice. 

Agatha tries to say something, doesn't, nods instead. Phineas drags her thumb over the starstone mark in Agatha's cheek. 

"my agatha," phineas says again, again, faintly like she's hardly aware of it, even as it surges through Agatha as strongly as her own power's current. " _mine,"_

Phineas pries Agatha's hand from her throat, grips her shoulders and sits up, making to trade their places. Phineas presses another kiss to her lips and Agatha lets herself be laid back down, trading their positions, and then it gets a bit harder for her to keep up.

There's absolutely nothing methodical about what Phineas is doing to her, Phineas' hands grasping whatever they can find and her teeth burying in Agatha's flesh over and over. The repressed, sterile work of Monterey destroying her, changing her, had been just another way Agatha had been alienated; taken apart this way is the furthest thing from what she knew before and she could sob with it. Phineas doesn't destroy her so much as _devours_ her like she's the only meal she'll ever get, like she _needs_ to be so close to Agatha that the only thing for it is to tear through straight to her heart. There's reverence in how Phineas bites and marks and viciously claims her every way she can, a ritual, a ceremony. Agatha's never felt as utterly wanted as she does like this and the love (someone's, between the four of them, it doesn't matter) is devastating. She reaches out to grab Phineas' hips because it's all she can do.

Phineas shudders, makes that bitter-medicine-wheeze that curls her chin against her chest and her hands go still in Agatha, tangled up in wire and black rubber. She holds Agatha's face, leans in so close Agatha feels like she's drowning in her gaze. Phineas sparks yellow, Vane's shadows skittering away from her face as Mana takes their place, and with all the interference of her sensors trying to comprehend she can't tell where Phineas stops and the light starts.

" _tell me_ " Phineas commands.

"I love you," Agatha stammers helplessly, reveling in the compulsion sweeping away everything else. "l-love, you,"

Phineas holds her head still and kisses her for a long time. Agatha's heart is so full it scares her, Phineas' feelings flowing into a vessel that seems precariously small.

"Phineas," she chokes out. "I-I-"

"I've got you," Phineas breathes against her lips. It's not enough, 

"Please," Agatha says fitfully. 

"What do you need sweetheart?" There's a command snaking from Phineas' lips, just quiet, just a gentle thing that slips along Agatha's ear. Frustrated tears prick Agatha's eyes, she clocks the symptoms of hyperventilation against the pressure in her.

"W..Want me, keep wanting me, please," she tries desperately. "please have me." 

There's a confusing flash of rage from Phineas at that, familiar from other injustices, generally felt just before some opposition was Stopped by Phineas' hands. There's the feeling of watching a storm pound against glass, of being soaked through.

Phineas kisses her viciously because it is the simplest compromise between the three voices screaming their responses to this latest egregious wrong, the fastest way to begin healing an intolerable hurt. Agatha feels a seam snap under her fingers as she fists them in Phineas' clothes. Finally Phineas breaks the kiss but stays close, nudging their noses. She's breathing hard, a sheen of dust and sweat over the black and gold cracking her skin. Agatha can think again, the hurricane in her chest subsiding enough for her to notice Phineas' labored breathing and the tremble in her muscles. Agatha tangles her fingers in the hair on the back of Phineas' head and grips hard, drags her upward firmly.

"That's enough," Agatha's voice is flattening out again, easing back into its smooth synth. "that's enough now." 

"I love you," Phineas moans, her voices losing their sync disconcertingly. Agatha nods.

"I know, come on Phin." 

Phineas breathes out. Agatha feels Vane slither back gradually, a gravity well in her chest coiled right where it belongs. They almost feel like they're purring.

When Agatha opens her eyes again Phineas is properly shivering. Just Phineas, fight-filthy, no extra light or teeth or eyes. She collapses a little on top of Agatha and buries her face in her destroyed neck while Agatha rubs circles across her shoulderblades. They're quiet for a while, then Phineas giggles and sits up, staring with all the instant clarity that comes after fucking (being a relative term for Things Like Them).

"Of course I want you, jeez." she says. Agatha clears her throat even though she doesn't need to. She's thankful she can't feel nearly as much as she could a minute ago.

"I don't know why I said that." she mumbles. When Phineas moves to lay down Agatha extends her arm so Phineas can curl up. The sky above the thicket they're in is clear tonight and the stars burn coldly down. Phineas spreads her hand over the mess of Agatha's chest. 

"You can say whatever you want." Phineas murmurs. 

Instead of dealing with that, Agatha says, "We should probably get up out of the dirt." Phineas huffs.

"Ulrich's gonna have a fit." She twirls her finger in a loose wire. "Uh. We should pick up your pieces too." There's a wince in her voice. Agatha taps the pads of her fingertips to Phineas' bicep while she waits for her to continue.

"Too much, that time?" Phineas tries. Agatha feels the damaged plates in her neck shifting as she kisses the top of her head. 

"Not at all," she says softly.


End file.
